


Crisis of Faith

by PrincexPhoenix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dom Castiel (Supernatural), Incest, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Soulless Sam Winchester, Spitroasting, Sub Dean Winchester, Two Dicks one Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincexPhoenix/pseuds/PrincexPhoenix
Summary: Dean Winchester could not remember the last time he was this tired. Sure, there were cases before, when he and his brother, Sam Winchester, stayed up all night crawling through some cave, or they were trapped with ghosts, or bees were trying to eat them alive. This case took the cake, the pie, and the whole damn restaurant too. Castiel even tagged along, and that added another layer of bullshit to the whole operation. Trying to explain that Cas was not, in fact, an angel of the Lord after he said it for the umpteenth time was becoming Dean’s personal ninth circle of Hell.So it was an understatement to say that he was tired.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Crisis of Faith

Dean Winchester could not remember the last time he was this tired. Sure, there were cases before, when he and his brother, Sam Winchester, stayed up all night crawling through some cave, or they were trapped with ghosts, or bees were trying to eat them alive. This case took the cake, the pie, and the whole damn restaurant too. Castiel even tagged along, and that added another layer of bullshit to the whole operation. Trying to explain that Cas was not, in fact, an angel of the Lord after he said it for the umpteenth time was becoming Dean’s personal ninth circle of Hell.

So it was an understatement to say that he was tired. Exhausted sounded more accurate. Drained. Dog-tired. On his last leg. Fatigued. The neon sign of the motel blinding him against the dark night sky was like a beacon of hope. Never was he so relieved to drive into a shitty, run-down parking lot and turn off his Baby. He placed his hands on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead, and spoke for the first time since they solved the case.

“If either of you so much as speak during the next eight hours, I’m going to shove my gun so far down your throat you’ll be shitting bullets for the next week. Understand?”

Sam and Cas exchanged a glance.

“Are you force feeding us the bullets?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, Dean,” Sam joined in, aiming a crooked grin in Dean’s direction. “You want us to suck your gun?”

Dean balked at the sound of Sam’s voice, his cheeks turning red. Cas got that wrinkle between his eyes that he got when he was turning a phrase over and over in his head. It made Dean want to kiss it to smooth it away. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the image of Sam or Cas with their lips wrapped around the barrel of his gun. That was a whole other can of worms that he just could not open right now. Maybe later, alone, with a lot of beer. _A lot_.

“Both of you,” Dean said, pointing at them, one after the other. “I mean it. You two soulless jerkoffs may not have to sleep, but I do, alright? So you’re going to sit in the corner and be quiet, like good boys.”

Cas and Sam exchanged another, longer glance. “Sure, Dean,” Sam said with a shrug. “Whatever you say.”

“We will be silent,” Cas agreed.

“Perfect.” Dean got out of the car and trudged along towards the check-in. He rang the bell once and waited, sweeping his gaze around. There was a sticky puddle in the corner attracting flies, and he grimaced. “Please be soda,” he said. “Please.”

“It isn’t,” a voice said, and Dean looked up to be confronted with the most despondent looking motel attendant he ever saw. “Vomit. Some asshole was sick earlier.”

“Great,” Dean said. “Look, I need a room for three-”

“Only got one left.” The attendant tapped the wall behind them. There was only one key there, dangling from its hook. “It’s a single person room. Got one bed.”

“Don’t you have any cots?” Dean spat out.

“Nope.”

“A futon? A Murphy bed? A couch?”

“No, no, and there’s one chair.” The attendant was enjoying this, Dean decided. “I guess one of you could sleep in the bathtub.”

“Charming.” Dean turned on his heel, shaking his head. “Thanks for nothing.”

“Guarantee anywhere you go will say the same,” the attendant said. “There’s some kind of convention in town.” At last, sympathy crept into their tone. Dean turned around to see them leaning forward. “Look, you’re kind of hot, so I’ll give you a deal. Forty-five for the night, and you can have something from the vending machine for free.”

Dean half-smiled, half-grimaced. “Anything I want from the vending machine, and forty a night.”

“Anything you want from the vending machine and fifty a night,” the attendant countered. “I have to keep my job, you know.”

Dean nodded, and paid using one of the fraudulent credit cards. It was what the motel deserved. One bed. That was ridiculous. At least Sam and Cas didn't need to sleep. He walked back to the car and stopped in front of Sam and Cas.

"All right," he said, holding up the keys to the vending machine. "We can take whatever we want."

"Great," Sam said.

"There's a problem," Dean said.

\-------------------------

The three of them stared at the problem. 

The bed was a double. Two people could fit in a tight squeeze, but three was out of the question. Dean looked to Cas, and then Sam, before stepping forward and placing a hand on the bed.

"This," he said, "This is mine."

Neither Cas nor Sam said anything. They were too busy exchanging another glance, a private conversation running between them. Dean would protest in any other situation, but his eyelids kept sliding shut if he didn't focus all of his attention on keeping them open. The bed was like a siren, and its call was one that he was going to heed.

"All right, you soulless weirdos," Dean said, stripping off his jacket and shirt. It left him in his t-shirt and slacks. After some internal deliberation, Dean pulled his slacks off and stood in his boxers. "I'm going to sleep, and I don't want to hear a sound from either of you for eight hours."

"You know, Dean, humans don't always need eight hours to sleep," Cas pointed out. "Sometimes they only need four to six."

"Well, this human needs ten," Dean snapped.

"Too much sleep is just as bad for you as too little," Sam said. He started to walk around Dean, stopping just behind him. "Ideally, you should listen to your body and let it dictate what you need."

Cas stepped forward, a smirk curving his lips. "Or want," he said. His pupils swallowed his irises as he looked Dean over like a fine steak. "Sometimes, you just have to obey base desires."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

His question was cut short by Sam placing his hands on Dean's hips and squeezing once. "Come on, Dean," Sam said. "You're a smart guy. You can figure it out."

"There are perks for only having one bed," Cas said, leaning forward to kiss Dean. It was surprisingly soft and chaste, no tongue involved. Dean made a sound halfway between want and confusion. 

“And for having two of us who don’t need sleep,” Sam said, nuzzling Dean’s neck. He added just the barest hint of teeth, scraping along the tender skin of Dean’s pulse point. “But I remember that fucking was good for sleep. Maybe it’ll help you sleep a bit better.”

Dean was definitely confused now. Sam was pressed up against his back, their bodies fitting together like a puzzle piece, all hard lines and soft curves. Cas was pushing into him from the front, his belt buckle digging into the top of Dean’s stomach. The kiss deepened, Cas’ tongue probing, looking for an opening. Dean gave him one, parting his lips, and Cas pushed his tongue inside with a moan. If lightning had a taste, Dean imagined this would be it. It was a bit sharp, tingling down his spine, sparking something inside him. He grabbed Cas’ shoulders, pressing back, and was rewarded with Sam nibbling at his ear. The adrenaline from the hunt was gone, but he still had the jitters from their most recent brush with the supernatural, and he had to admit that this was a good way to release some of them. Even if all he wanted to do was sleep.

Sam hiked up his shirt, scratching long lines down Dean’s back. Dean arched into it, pressing himself more firmly against Cas’ chest. Sam pulled the shirt off of him, parting the three of them for a moment. Dean had the chance to take one breath before Cas was back, teeth and tongue opening Dean’s mouth. Sam’s erection ground against Dean’s thigh, and Cas’ was against his own. The sensations were making Dean feel a little dizzy, and he pulled away from Cas, trying to get his head straight.

Was he really going to have sex with an _angel_ and his _brother_?

The question seemed decided for him, and he was grateful as Sam pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. It meant that he could spend less time in his head, and his head was not the most welcome place right now. 

Sam winked at him before pulling his shirt off with a single movement, tossing it to the side. His broad chest was unmarked save for the tattoo over his heart. Dean rose up, intent on changing that, but Sam pushed him back down with a tut.

“You stay put. You’re so tired, remember?” Sam asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled, reaching up to touch Sam’s stomach. 

This, it seemed, was allowed, and Dean traced the lines of Sam’s muscles. The bed sank even more as Cas joined them, pulling Sam’s head around for a kiss. Sam bit down, and Dean watched Cas’ eyes widen and then narrow, his pupils growing. He growled, biting Sam back, teeth splitting the soft skin of Sam’s lip. Sam pulled back and licked the blood away, his grin almost feral. Then they both looked down at Dean, who felt like he was on the menu next.

“I want the front,” Cas said, hauling Dean up to his knees, pulling him out from under Sam. Dean placed his hands on Cas’ shoulders, the manhandling both surprising and welcome.

“I’ll take the back, then,” Sam said, turning Dean until he was sandwiched between them. “More real estate.”

He grabbed Dean’s ass, squeezed it through the boxers, and then ripped the thin fabric away. Dean gulped at the sudden rush of air on his erect cock, a cool caress. Sam slid away, pulling Dean to the edge of the bed. Cas followed, shedding layers of clothing as he went, until he too was naked and exposed against Dean. Their chests pressed together and Dean moaned, kissing Cas urgently.

Sam spread Dean’s cheeks and brushed his nose along Dean’s crack, inhaling. Dean jumped as he felt the first brush of Sam’s lips on his entrance, gentle and soft. Then there was a flick of something wet and firm against the ring of muscle. Dean bucked back into it, and Sam’s hands gripped his hips, pulled him closer and moaned. Cas wound his fingers into Dean’s hair and yanked it back, leaving open mouthed kisses along the column of his neck. Dean groaned, dragging his nails down Cas’ back, overcome by the combined attention.

Sam dragged the flat of his tongue along Dean’s crack, wetting it, and then dug through the bedside table. There were a few packets of lube, and he grabbed one of them, disappearing behind Dean again. Dean tried to follow him but Cas tightened his grip on Dean’s hair and held him in place, biting the base of his throat. It was part warning, part reminder, and Dean heeded it, running his hands along Cas’ arms.

Sam traced a circle around Dean’s entrance with a lube-slick finger, and then pushed the first joint of it inside. Dean’s body resisted the intrusion, tightened its muscles around Sam’s finger, and Sam let out a shallow breath against the base of Dean’s back.

“Fuck,” Sam said. “You’re so fucking tight, Dean.”

Cas made a sound, looking up at Dean with bedroom eyes and his mouth placed on Dean’s nipple. His tongue was swirling around it, and Dean hissed, gripping Cas’ hair and pulling on it. Cas moved to his other nipple, working it to firmness. Sam pushed his finger up to the second joint, crooking it slightly before pulling it out again. With a kiss to the back of Dean’s neck, he pushed his finger all the way into the knuckle. Dean gasped and his hips twitched, all they could do while being held firm by Sam. 

Cas began kissing down Dean’s body, stopping just above the bulge of his cock. Dean wondered where he learned to do these things, and then wondered what he and Sam got up to during the night. The thought of that was enough to solidify his erection, and it curled up towards his stomach, red and with a bit of precum beading at the tip. Cas looked down at it, touching it with enough reverence and affection that it seeped through everything he did. Dean smiled and brushed his fingers along Cas’ cheeks.

Then Sam jammed another finger into him, careless and barely lubed. Dean yelped, arching, and Sam chuckled from behind him. Dean was about to whip around and glare at him when Cas pressed a kiss to the base of his cock, arresting his movements. The two-pronged assault wasn’t fair, and Dean had half a mind to put an end to the shenanigans and fuck one or both of them himself when Sam spread his fingers in his ass at the same time that Cas took the tip of him into his mouth.

Unable to stop himself, he jerked his hips forward, shoving more and more of his cock into Cas’ mouth. Cas adjusted for it, choking a little on the length before angelic grace could kick in and suppress his gag reflex. That momentary tightness around Dean felt good, though, and he fisted his hand in Cas’ hair and began fucking his mouth with earnest. Each rock forward required an equal rock back, and he found that he was fucking himself on Sam’s fingers while he fucked Cas. Sam added a third finger, impossibly, and angled them to strike that sweet spot that Dean loved to have hit.

“Fuck,” Dean said, tipping his head back. Sam bit at his throat, leaving bruises that would be difficult to explain the next time they went on a hunt. “Fuck, Sammy, Cas, this-”

“Sh,” Sam said, reaching down to pull Cas away. “You talk too much. Cas, we should do something about that.”

“So we should,” Cas said, licking his lips clean. He leaned around Dean and kissed Sam. “On your hands and knees, Dean,” he ordered when he pulled away.

Dean looked between them and figured out their plan. “Oh,” he said, and dropped down, his training to follow orders and give in too strong. 

Cas kneeled before him and tilted his head up, expression cool and distant. His hand was around his cock and he was stroking it to hardness, pumping up and down. Dean licked his lips, anticipation shivering through him, chasing away the last of the sleep. Adrenaline pumped in his veins as Sam removed his fingers. The tell-tale squelch of lube could be heard, and Dean’s heart raced.

Cas moved first, squeezing Dean’s cheeks until his mouth dropped open. Then, with a last look to make sure Dean was okay - and how _Cas_ that was - he moved forward, pressing his cock into Dean’s mouth. Dean opened wider, running his tongue along the bottom of Cas’ cock, drawing it in. Behind him, Sam was guiding himself into Dean’s ass, moaning at every inch of ground he gained. Dean quivered with the effort of staying still, until at last both Cas and Sam were fully seated inside of him.

“It’s remarkable,” Cas said, “how much quieter it is when Dean cannot speak.”

Sam laughed, squeezing Dean’s ass until his fingernails threatened to pierce skin. “You’re telling me. One time, he told me he wasn’t going to talk to me for a week. I got all As on my tests because I could finally study.”

Dean grunted, glaring at the two of them. Cas stroked his hair and pulled back, almost all of the way out. Sam copied him, and Dean had a moment to mourn the loss of feeling full. Then they both, in unison, pushed back into him, and Dean moaned, filthy and low, around Cas’ cock. The drag of them in and out of him occupied all of his thoughts, and it was hard to keep himself upright. At some point, he was sure that Sam was holding his hips in place, and the roots of his hair felt like they were being pulled out of his skull from Cas’ grip. It was still the best sex he had in years. Possibly a decade.

Sam reached down and gripped Dean’s cock, pumping it as his thrusts became erratic. Dean fucked into Sam’s fist, panting through his nose, and came with a long, muffled shout, his cum spurting on the sheets. The tension in his ass must have been too great, because Sam followed soon after, and Dean could feel the heat of his cum swelling the condom. Cas, with the stamina only an angel could have, continued to thrust, his eyes closed and head tipped back in pleasure.

“Cas,” Sam said after a few more minutes, cleaning himself and Dean.

Cas opened one eye and pushed as deep as he could into Dean’s mouth. His cum shot down Dean’s throat, giving him no choice but to swallow. At last, Cas pulled away, collapsing against the bed. Dean followed suit, his eyes already sliding shut as the sleepiness of post-orgasmic bliss hit him. As he fell towards slumber and unconsciousness, he heard Sam and Cas talking, their voices a pleasant murmur over him.

“At least he isn’t complaining about the bed anymore,” Sam said.

“He should fall asleep soon,” Cas said, stroking Dean’s hair. Dean leaned into it, his eyes still closed, murmuring.

“You really love him,” Sam said, quiet.

“Don’t you?” Cas asked.

Sam shifted on the bed, placing an arm around Dean and drawing him closer. “In my own way,” he said. “Not having a soul, it’s different - but, if anyone ever hurt him, I would kill them.”

“And I guess that’s enough,” Cas said, and Dean, to himself, agreed.

It was enough, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to the wonderful multi-shipping Discord server that I'm in! Love everyone in this bar.


End file.
